Unlikely, Impossible, and a Little Bit Looney
by Fedora Ferret
Summary: Dudley was captivated from the moment he met her, but their relationship won't be easy. After all, how could a Dursley last with someone so un-Dursleyish as Luna Lovegood?
1. Meet the Girl

Dudley Dursley woke up on 23rd August believing that that day, like all the days before (at least since two months before his 18th birthday), would be utterly ordinary, completely unaware that he would in fact never have an ordinary day again in his life. Nonetheless, it began like most mornings. He awoke early, showered, dressed in a suit that was slightly too tight (though he'd shed the absurd weight of his childhood, his parents and aunt had been entirely right about being big boned too), and went to his usual café for coffee and a low-fat muffin.

This had been Dudley's morning routine since graduating from university, when he'd gone to work for Grunnings with his father. He hadn't deviated from it, not once in three years, even during the weekends or holidays (though those _were_ without the suit). He found the monotony comforting, to the point where he chose his café because it was secluded and had the same regulars every morning. So it understandably gave him pause on this day when he entered the store and saw someone brand new.

She was a slender slip of a girl, with long, dirty blonde hair and bulging blue eyes. Even if she were not an oddity for her very presence, her clothing would have drawn all eyes to her anyway; the strange clash, and yet mesh, of her sky blue shirt, buttery yellow skirt and emerald green cardigan, accented with, of all things, a necklace made of corks and radish earings. It was like an avant garde artistic statement of a beautiful summer day against the dreary backdrop of a rainy British autumn. Most unusually, she sat with a typewriter and two stacks of odd brownish paper, one blank and one written on, steadily tapping out word after word. It looked old fashioned at a glance, although Dudley imagined it must have been some new thing marketed to hipsters as it didn't make the iconic tapping or dinging noises of a traditional typewriter.

He must have been staring for longer than he thought, because eventually she looked up at him. Her eyes had this dreamy sort of far off quality, as though she were only half here, but something in them pierced Dudley's soul. It was as though it didn't even take her full attention to break down every element of his appearance, analyse him, and understand the very nature of his soul. And then she smiled.

Dudley bought his coffee and muffin and fled.

The next day, Dudley returned to the shop, certain, since he had never seen the girl before, that her being there was a one time thing and he could resume his normal routine. He was wrong. When he walked in, she was there one more, at the same table with the same typewriter, dressed now in brilliant purples and oranges that really didn't go together but still managed to suit her. This time, Dudley did his best to pointedly not look at her, to just order his usual and leave. But it was so bloody _hard_ when she dressed like a walking neon sign. As he waited for them to prepare his drink (honestly, he was in here every morning at 7 on the dot, you'd think they'd expect him by now) he found his eyes drawn to her again. This time it only took a second before she returned it. Once again, she smiled at him, and he gave a weak smile back, ignoring the sudden wobbles in his knees. This time he didn't so much run out of the shop as try very hard not to stumble.

Dudley had a very difficult time concentrating on work that day. He wasn't sure why, but his mind kept drifting back to that strange blonde. She wasn't his type, not at all. He was no stranger to women, having had several relationships, one of which was actually fairly serious until he'd bollocks'd it up, all throughout university, but they tended to be on the bustier, huskier side, usually brunette. But something about this girl intrigued him. Everything from her clothes to her typewriter were an affront to normalcy, a giant rude hand sign displayed to all things Dursley, and yet it fascinated him. Dudley was thick about a lot of things, but life and soul sucking monsters had made him very aware of himself. This girl was attractive to him. Clearly there was only one thing to do.

Well, a month of ignoring her didn't fix anything. Dudley sometimes wondered if he might need to find a new place for his morning coffee, but every time he made a crappy excuse, chastised himself because he knew it wasn't the real reason, and kept going anyway. So there was a second thing to do.

"Hullo," Dudley said, nervously.

"Good morning," the girl replied, not a care in the world. Her voice had a dreamy, airy quality, with a soft lilt. It was quite pretty.

"I've, er, seen you in here a lot lately," Dudley stammered, uncertain.

"Yes, I find it's a peaceful place to work," she answered, eyes returning to her typewriter and hands going back to work, though she didn't break the conversation. "My home's become infested with a nest of Hormwakkies and I can't concentrate with their constant whistling, so I've started coming here."

"Oh." Dudley didn't have the first clue what a Hormwakkie was, but he didn't know what a lot of things were. "What is it you're working on?"

"I'm actually just finishing," the girl said, tapping out a few more keystrokes before tearing out the last page and handing it to Dudley. It read _The Mating Patterns of the Western Goatfly, by Luna Lovegood._ Dudley stared at it with some confusion. "… I'm Luna Lovegood," the girl supplied, sounding for all the world like she thought herself helpful.

"Dudley Dursley," Dudley responded automatically, still trying to parse out the page. Luna Lovegood beamed.

"Oh, how funny. Our names both alliterate."

"Er, yeah." He handed Luna back the page, which she set on top of the stack. "Say, why'd you do the title page last?"

"So I could put it on top," Luna replied as though that were obvious.

"But don't you have to reorder them anyway?"

"No, they're already in order." Dudley stared at her, and then at the stack of papers, which she'd clearly been laying face up.

"… you mean to tell me that you wrote this paper of yours… backwards."

"Yes, it seemed much simpler than trying to reorganize them after its already done." Dudley stared at her even more.

"… why not just lay the pages facedown?"

"That's a brilliant idea," Luna answered, not missing a beat. "I suppose I'll have to do that next time." Dudley felt the sudden odd urge to smash his face into a wall. Clearly this girl was loony, and associating with her had been a terrible idea. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Sure, I s'pose."

It was Sunday, so Dudley had nowhere to be. Normally on such a day he would have gone to the gym, stopped by his parents' house for lunch, then gone home and played video games for the rest of the night. Instead, he sat with Luna Lovegood and talked for hours. He learned that her paper was actually her thesis for her Masters (she called it her Mastery, which Dudley found strange, but he didn't know enough about post-graduate work to correct her) in Cryptozoology, or the study of mythical creatures. She was a bit of an odd duck, professing a personal belief that the various creatures she studied actually existed, although she acknowledged that she had no proof. Dudley himself was skeptical, but if there was a university program dedicated to the field who was he to argue, and besides which he would've said that wizards and giants weren't real when he was 11 and then he grew a pig's tail. For his part, Luna learned of his dull work life and his time at Smeltings and uni as a boxing champion. When the time came to talk about family, Dudley skirted, as he often did, the topic of siblings and cousins, instead telling her about his parents and Aunt Marge, and in turn learned of Luna's father, who ran a newspaper in Devon, and the friends she considered family. In fact, she informed him, she was set to become an aunt, a godmother and a namesake all at once in about four months.

"They're going to call her Lily Luna," she said quite proudly. "For Harry's mum and me."

"That's a pretty name," Dudley commented. The name Lily actually sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place why. He also suppressed the small surge of hope at the name Harry. He'd long since realized, in the past 8 years, that Harry was an incredibly common name.

By mid-afternoon, Dudley was certain he knew more about Luna than he did his friends from work, and she was just regaling him with tales of the football matches she'd commentated in her secondary school years and the cruel PE teacher when his mobile rang. It was his mother, and he sighed. In losing track of the time he'd forgotten to text her that he wouldn't be coming for lunch today, and now she was probably panicking.

"Sorry, Luna, that's my mum. Gotta let her know I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere." Luna smiled politely.

"I understand. Daddy often gets worried when I'm on expeditions and don't write. I should probably be going anyway, if they're left unchecked too long the Hormwakkies will likely eat my roof.

"Er, right." Dudley stood, when it occurred to him that now that she was done with her thesis she probably wouldn't be coming around anymore. She was an odd duck, but Dudley actually found her company really enjoyable. "Say, Luna, could I get your phone number? I'd like to do this again sometime."

"Hm?" Luna cocked her head slightly, before a look of recognition appeared on her face. "Oh, yes. Certainly." She wrote out the number on a napkin, slowly as if trying to remember it as she went. "I'm glad Hermione talked me into getting one." Dudley grunted in agreement. He hadn't been planning on getting a mobile originally, given how expensive they were, but after the company issued them to all the administrative staff he never went anywhere without it. He pocketed the napkin and smiled.

"I'll call you later."

"I look forward to it." Luna's frankness was steadily surprising him less and less, but still, that sounded almost like genuine flirting. They looked at each other, just for a moment, before Dudley headed out of the store, putting his phone to his ear.

"Hullo? Yes, Mum, I'm sorry I didn't call, I was talking with a new friend… yes she's a girl Mum… I don't know if she wants kids, I just met her…"

* * *

Dudley took Luna out to Italian for their first date. Simple, classic, elegant. It was a nice place too, the kind where you had to dress up a bit. And she was so very clearly bored.

"You're not having a very good time, are you?" Dudley asked dejectedly, turning the pasta on his fork. Luna started, having been staring off into space as he noticed she often did.

"Oh, no, Dudley, I'm having a lovely time," she assured him, smiling apologetically. "It's just that a dinner date is so very cliche, isn't it? I don't normally do the usual thing, and I was quite looking forward to spending an evening out in the Mu- the non-academic world."

"Oh." If Dudley would normally have caught Luna's slip of the tongue, he was too distracted by a sudden racking of the brain. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm very used to doing the usual thing. So what do you want to do?"

And that was how Dudley took Luna bowling in a nice suit and dress, and earned a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

 **I need a break from the rigors of the world and from the long and arduous process of rewriting Harry Granger, so I thought to myself hey, let's write a short, fluffy fic that pairs my two favorite characters and also will give Vernon a stroke. This shouldn't be more than 4 or 5 chapters, and short chapters at that, so I'll probably even finish it!**


	2. Meet the Baggage

Luna was brilliant, and mad as a hatter, and also absolutely bloody brilliant. You wouldn't think it by looking at her, or a casual conversation, but luckily Dudley didn't particularly care how clever a woman was as long as she wasn't a dullard. She was prone to spacing out in the middle of a conversation, a tendency she often blamed on Wrackspurts. That was another tendency of hers. When Dudley went home after his first conversation with her, he spent almost an hour online looking up the creatures she talked about. He could find nothing save for a small blog run by someone called Dennis Creevey called The Quibbler Online MugEd, which was only very recent and seemed to run equal stories about weird, unrealistic sounding creatures, and conspiracy theories about the lizardmen running the government from their secret Illuminati bases. Nonetheless, when Dudley was finally brave and comfortable enough in their budding relationship to voice scepticism, she merely answered with a smile.

"I'll admit I'm not quite sure they exist either," she'd said. "I used to, very firmly in fact, but after twelve expeditions to Europe in seven years and not a trace of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack I've realised some things simply don't exist. But it's nice to believe anyway, isn't it?" And that was what made her so very brilliant. Beneath the surface and the peculiarity Luna was perhaps one of the most observant and intelligent people he'd ever met. She had a way of cutting into the heart of any problem he had, and picking out the one most innocuous and yet most important word in a story and turning it into a full dissection of his very nature.

"You say that was funny?" They were on a nature hike, something Dudley had never particularly enjoyed and firmly believed he would still not enjoy were it not for Luna walking in front of him. He'd just finished telling what, in his memory, a fairly mundane but interesting story about the time Harry (in his story, an unnamed classmate) got dogpiled during a PE football match and lost the ball, and would've lost the entire game had he not recovered it. He didn't find it particularly funny anymore, but without thinking that was how he'd described it.

"Er, yeah. I thought so at the time anyway." Luna didn't respond for a minute, and they walked in a surprisingly uncomfortable silence.

"Dudley," Luna said quietly. "What kind of person were you when you were young?" Dudley stopped short. It took him a moment to answer.

"… not a very good one." And so Dudley told her everything. How he'd bullied his cousin growing up, beating people up with his gang, harassing and manipulating adults. He didn't go into detail unless prompted, but otherwise he unveiled all of his past shames. When he'd finished, he let out a huge sigh. He hadn't told anyone about any of that before, not even Chloe Quinn, the girl he'd been convinced, at one point, that he would marry. Though considering how that turned out it wasn't saying much.

"What changed?" Dudley blinked. He'd only known Luna for a little over a month but he'd still never heard her go in for two piercing questions one after another.

"Er, when I was 15, I was walking home with Harry, my cousin, when we were attacked by these two… gang members." Adapting the story to keep Harry's world out of it on the spot like this was surprisingly easy. "They were, er, kids I'd picked on when we were small, but they were bigger than me, and they told me a lot of really harsh truths before they tried to kill us." Which was a fancy way of saying dementeds made him experience all the suffering he'd imposed on others before trying to eat his soul. "The only reason I made it out alive is because Harry saved me, even though I'd treated him like crap his entire life. I think he ended up in a lot of trouble for that too, I dunno. He ended up staying with friends afterwards. Anyway it kind of opened my eyes, made me think really hard about who I was and who I wanted to be. And I guess I didn't want to be someone who would only be remembered as a brute." Somewhere in the course of his story, Dudley had looked away from Luna, unable to face her while he bared his soul. Now he turned back, prepared for rejection, disappointment, and disgust on her face. Instead it was… sympathy? Also, was that bench she was sitting on there before? It must've been. She patted the seat next to her, and Dudley sat down.

"When I was in school," she started. "I didn't really have friends. I've always believed in a lot of strange things, and my school house tended to look down upon ideas that aren't in books. I was called mean names, pushed around by bullies, I had quite a few of my possessions stolen and only a few by Nargles. I didn't make a single real friend until I was 14. So as you can imagine, I rather dislike bullies." The word "dislike" fell from her mouth like it was something unfamiliar and rotten. Dudley's head fell at this, his cheeks burning with shame. "But," she continued. "I know firsthand how people can change." Dudley looked up again, turning hopeful eyes to her. "A very good friend of mine, actually the financial backer for a lot of my research, was possibly the worst bully my school had. Bigoted, elitist, snobbish nobility who thought every person in the school was beneath him and made it his personal mission in life to ensure they knew it. But as he got older, he realised the kind of crowd those beliefs got him involved in, and after graduating he decided to change, just like you did. And now, even though he called us all terrible names, my friends and I welcome him to most of our reunions." Luna smiled encouragingly at Dudley and looped her arm around his, leaning casually into his shoulder. "Who you were doesn't ever matter, only who you are. And I've never known you to be anything but a kind and honest man." Dudley didn't have an answer to that. Luna was right, he knew, at least on some level, but the part of him that dwelled on his past refused to accept it. Still, he pointed out to that cynical, self-loathing piece, it was hardly the craziest thing he'd ever heard Luna talk about.

Luna wasn't perfect, of course. She tended to talk endlessly, making Dudley force his way to getting a word in edgewise sometimes and only allowing Dudley a moment to speak when she specifically wanted his opinion. The exception was the odd occasion, on a rainy day or a cloudy night, or oddly enough that one time they went to an amusement park and went through the haunted house, where she would get a far off look. Those times were even harder for Dudley to talk to her, because she seemed completely oblivious to the world around her. When she finally snapped back to reality, she always acted like nothing had happened, which infuriated Dudley to no end.

* * *

They dated for about two months before Luna finally agreed to spend the night at Dudley's place. Not that he pressured her; for all that his parents had failed completely and utterly to raise him as a decent human being, the one lesson they did impart was treating a woman respectfully. It was more that she lived in London and he lived in Surrey, and it was an almost hour long drive in the middle of the night after some of their dates. It never seemed to be a matter of modesty or prudishness either; that Dudley could attest to personally. Instead she seemed uncomfortable with the idea of spending the night with another person. She finally agreed, though, after a dinner date had gone long and included a few bottles of wine. Dudley had always enjoyed sleeping with women, regardless of the context. Nothing made him feel more strong or masculine than wrapping himself protectively around a girl he liked, and he'd often been told that it made them feel safe and secure. So it was both a cause for concern and a bit of a blow to the ego when he was awoken by Luna crying out in her sleep.

"Luna?" He asked worriedly, shaking her shoulder with a meaty hand. It didn't wake her, and she whimpered painfully. "Luna, luv, wake up. Luna!" Dudley had turned to shouting, as he often did when he wasn't sure of what to do, and this finally seemed to wake his girlfriend. But rather than realise she was safe, she only seemed to freak out more, rolling out of Dudley's arms and pushing off of the bed onto the floor. She landed deftly on her feet, her hand flying to her ear, and her expression turned from panic to confusion when her fingers brushed only hair.

"Wha… Dudley?" Luna's voice was uncharacteristically hard and serious, but instantly snapped back to its light, dreamy lilt. "I'm terribly sorry, did I wake you?" Dudley just stared at her incredulously.

"What the bloody hell, Luna? You just got out of bed like the bloody SIS. … wait are you SIS?"

"… no?"

"More importantly, are you okay?" It spoke to Dudley's ability to prioritise that he turned his attention on Luna's problems rather than his newfound realisation that his girlfriend was probably a spy. "You were having a really bad nightmare." Probably about being lowered into a volcano by a Russian supervillain. Probably. Okay Dudley could admit he had some really dumb thoughts when he was still sleepy. Luna merely climbed back into bed and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's fine, don't worry. I have bad dreams sometimes, just like everyone." Dudley merely raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think bad things could cross your mind at all."

"You know Dudley," Luna said, stifling a giggle. "You probably shouldn't idealise me so much."

"And you shouldn't deflect so much. There, that's a flaw of yours I recognise." Dudley propped his head up with his hand and stared at the back of Luna's head as she snuggled back into him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly." There it was again, that flat, even tone. "Good night Dudley." Dudley didn't attempt to argue with the tone of finality.

That was, perhaps, Luna's greatest flaw. Though she cared for him a great deal, and he was smitten with her, she refused to really let him in. She clearly had a lot of baggage and a lot of scars. She also very obviously lied about her life when she wasn't with him. Dudley was more perceptive than people gave him credit for, at least about other people, and he could tell that much. The little inconsistencies, the strange quirks and flaws in her stories. She somehow professed to living down the street from one of the most famous chip shops in London but had never heard of it before. She claimed, at one point, to have come to breakfast with him straight from visiting her father, despite Devon being a day's trip away. Oftentimes, Dudley thought that he must be the other man, save for her assertions that he should meet her friends, and that he was welcome to visit her flat if he found himself in London. And even if it were true… honestly so long as Dudley didn't know it for a fact he didn't particularly care. Because Luna was flawed, and more than a little crazy, but he thought he could forgive her for just about anything.


	3. Meet the Friends

"You'd really like them, they're lovely people."

"Ron especially would love to talk about cars with you, he really rather likes cars."

"Hermione has been insisting she learn who can listen to me go on about Corkles for three hours and keep a straight face. … now that I say that myself I think she's my least best friend, but Ginny thinks you sound wonderful."

This, for more than half of their six month relationship, before Luna finally sat Dudley down and asked if he'd like to join her friends Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione on their monthly double date night-a triple date, with them included. Dudley might not've accepted, save that Luna had been going on about how important her friends were to her for so long that he likely knew more about them than they did by this point, and he knew it would make her happy. And, indeed, the way her eyes lit up when he told her yes, he'd love to go, he'd been dying to meet them for ages was worth it all. So on a chilly December night, Dudley put on a nice shirt, got in his car, and drove up to London, picking up Luna on the way to the restaurant. It was a nice place, not too fancy but certainly not cheap, which Dudley found somewhat thoughtless as Luna's friends had no reason to think he could afford this. They entered, Luna peering around the establishment, and were quickly waved over by a gangly ginger and a woman with wild, curly hair. Luna beamed and dragged Dudley over.

"Hello guys. This is Dudley." She said it with such pride and warmth that Dudley wasn't entirely certain she was introducing him as a boyfriend and not as her son. Regardless, he held out a hand to the ginger, who stood and shook it.

"Ron Weasley, pleasure to meet you." Ron's tone was pleasant, but there was an odd look on his face, and the only reason Dudley could place it was because he could tell he had the same one.

"Likewise, but… have we met before? I swear I know you from somewhere." Ron merely shrugged.

"I suppose we must have, since I have the same feeling. I was an au-a policeman until a few years ago, I met a lot of people I don't remember and who I'm certain wouldn't remember me." Remembering his manners Dudley then offered his hand to the woman.

"Sorry, forgot myself."

"That's quite alright," she responded politely, taking the handshake though she didn't stand. "Hermione Granger-Weasley. Please, sit, both of you… all of you, actually," she looked pointedly at her husband, who grinned sheepishly and sat back down.

"Right, chairs. Good for sitting in." Dudley chuckled as Luna smiled brilliantly. Dudley was entirely right, it had been important for her friends and boyfriend to get along and he was apparently doing swimmingly so far. Determined to carry on the momentum as he sat, he turned to Ron.

"So you said used to be a policeman. Mind if I ask what changed?" Ron's face lit up.

"Became a dad, I did. Our Rosie was born two years ago and I decided to stay at home so Hermione could keep working." Dudley raised an eyebrow.

"Very progressive of you. Most of the men at my office brag about how good of housewives their women are."

"Yes, I'm sure there are plenty of men like that," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fortunately Ron is just lazy enough to not want to work and responsible enough to take care of things while I'm away."

"Yeah, I'd rather spend time with my daughter than be chasing criminals and filing paperwork all day, imagine that." Despite their sniping words there was a sort of light heartedness, as though this bickering was more fun than irritating for them, and Dudley found it rather amusing. He could only remember his parents disagreeing a few times in his entire life, and they had always been loud, angry rows. "Anyway, it's not been all housework. I've had to start working part time at my brother's shop now that we have number two on the way." Dudley blinked and glanced once more at Hermione, this time specifically at her stomach. It was well concealed by her thick-yet-classy jumper, but on specifically looking for it he could make out an early baby bump.

"Congratulations," he said, not sure what else to say.

"I imagine Lily Luna will appreciate growing up with a playmate," Luna interjected, no longer content to enjoy the scene. "It was certainly nice having Ginny down the road when we were small, and Rose and Albus are like two peas in a pod, aren't they?" Hermione nodded, but Ron threw a sly grin at Dudley and Luna.

"You know Luna, it could be a trio rather than a duo." His grin grew wider and a bit more malicious. "It's a bit late for the same school year, but if the genes are anything to go by some blonde mixed in with the gingers might be a nice change of-OW!" There was a loud thump as Hermione's foot collided with Ron's shin, saving Dudley as his face reddened at roughly the same pace as he understood the other man's meaning. Luna, however, merely looked thoughtful.

"Hm," she mused. "Maybe…"

"Luna!" Dudley hissed, restrained from yelling only by the public venue.

"… no, you're quite right Dudley. Not just yet." She smiled apologetically at Ron. "Perhaps next time though. We'll have to coordinate." Dudley turned roughly the colour of a beet as Ron laughed uproariously, causing the other restaurant-goers to give them dirty looks.

"Never change Luna. Never change."

They chatted about fortunately lighter things for the next fifteen minutes. Dudley learned that Ron's brother owned a joke shop, that Hermione was a civil rights attorney, and that despite adoring cars Ron had failed his driving test.

"7 times," he said with alarming cheerfulness.

Dudley contributed to the small talk, but it seemed that Luna talked to them about him even more than to him about them because they already knew quite a lot about his life. Every so often Luna would pat him on the thigh, as if to convey that he was doing well and she was pleased with him. Dudley found it a bit condescending, but sweet all the same. When asked about the monthly dinners, Hermione smiled fondly.

"We've been doing these since we left school. Back when we were all just dating it was a nice way to have fun as a group, and now it's just become tradition I suppose. We've got a standing invitation for any of our friends to join us but Luna's the first to be in a serious enough relationship, besides Draco." Ron snorted.

"Never expected that. I honestly thought Neville would work up the courage to ask Hannah out before Luna found a bloke-ow!" Ron's cry of pain was less pronounced this time, but Luna seemed unperturbed. Hermione, however, was giving him a glare of death. Luckily, Ron was saved. "O-oh look, there's Ginny. Let's wave her over and change the topic." Dudley turned in his seat, and his eyes went bogglingly wide. Waddling towards them was another ginger-family, most likely-who looked like she might go into labour at any minute. Ginny smiled broadly and gave a small wave as she slowly made her way to her seat.

"Sorry we're late," she said. "James." Ron, Hermione and Luna all nodded sagely as if that explained everything. "Harry's parking the bike." Ginny then turned to Dudley. "So you must be Luna's famous boyfriend. Ginny Potter." Dudley had a less than stellar reputation about his intelligence, but it was, for the most part, not true, having been earned during a time in his life where excessive thought was discouraged and excuses were made. That being said, he still wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and so, distracted as he was by the thought of this very pregnant woman riding on the back of a motorbike and how there was no way that was good for the baby, he missed the obvious connection that this woman's surname was Potter, and he knew her husband's given name was Harry.

"Dudley Dursley," Dudley responded absentmindedly. The others at the table were not so distracted. As one, four pairs of eyes snapped immediately to Luna (for even within the womb, Lily Luna Potter had subconsciously absorbed her mothers' many tirades against the Dursleys whenever her father showed signs of his childhood trauma), who seemed rather oblivious to her friends' reaction. Before anyone could speak, a voice came from behind them.

"Sorry we're late." Dudley began to turn to greet the last comer. "I assume Ginny told you, James was being quite the-Dudley!?"

"HARRY!?"

It was him. Same scruffy black hair, same brilliant green eyes, same stupid lightning scar that Dudley had always secretly thought looked badass. Harry Potter.

The cousins stared at each other for a long minute, the rest of the table deadly silent, before, as one, a thought occurred to both of them at once, and their gazes snapped to Luna. Finally, she seemed to notice something was wrong.

"… I feel as though I've missed something terribly obvious."

Dudley leaned against the cold stone wall of the building and ran a hand through his hair. He'd been wanting this moment for years, to be reunited with his cousin, to apologise for all the terrible things he'd done as a child and thank Harry for protecting his family when they didn't remotely deserve it. But it had come so suddenly and unexpectedly, after Dudley had all but given up hope, and on top of that the crashing realisation that came with it-Luna was a witch, duh, obviously, points against Dudley's intelligence right there-he'd been a bit overwhelmed and needed to run out. The cool air had felt good on his skin, but now it just made him feel clammy. He inhaled deeply.

 _Alright, I can do this. I'm a man. I faced down a bloke twice my size, and I'm a big guy, knowing full well he was going to knock a tooth out over a bloody trophy. I can face Harry._

"Dudley?"

"AHH-Harry, hey, what's, uh, what's up?" Harry just raised his eyebrow in that way Dudley had come to translate, in their teenager years, as "I have something incredibly snarky I could say to you right now, but I shan't, because I'm too close to escape afterwards."

"Just wanted to, er…" Harry rubbed the back of his neck, snarky eyebrow dropped for something much more awkward and less natural, as though instinct had been overcome by the reality of the situation. "Make sure you were okay, I suppose."

"Right… yeah, I did kind of just flee the restaurant, didn't I?"

"White as a sheet and everything." They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"So, er," Dudley started, trying desperately to break the tension. "What's it like back in there? I can't imagine you've, er, said the nicest things about me in the past, if anything at all." Harry shrugged.

"I can't say I've said much at all. Life with your family isn't… something I like to talk about. I'm pretty sure my wife wants your head on a pike, but I guess Ron and Hermione had a good first impression, and Luna just kind of ordered appetizers for the table as though nothing were wrong."

"… she planned this whole bloody thing didn't she?"

"There is a greater than average chance of that, yes."

"I'm going to kill her. Or marry her," Dudley sighed. "Haven't decided yet." Harry moved next to Dudley and leaned against the wall with him, pulling a small, recognizable box from the inside of his jacket. Dudley eyed Harry curiously.

"Since when do you smoke," he asked cautiously.

"Somewhere around the third disembowelled child." He pulled a cigarette out of the pack and raised it to his lips. He moved to put the pack away, but paused before hesitantly holding it out to Dudley. "You and your gang used to smoke, right?" Dudley cringed slightly at the mention of his gang.

"Quit back in college."

"If Ginny asks, I quit too." Harry looked up and down the alley quickly, then brought his hand near his face and snapped. The tip of the cigarette ignited instantly, causing Dudley to start, but he kept his reactions down. They stood there in silence for a few more minutes, Dudley growing more fidgety with every passing second. Finally, he broke.

"Why are you just standing here?" He demanded, rounding on Harry. "Shouldn't you be… I dunno, yelling at me, or making some clever quip and leaving, or something?" Harry stared at Dudley for a second, before finally shrugging.

"Honestly, Dudley, I don't know." Harry shrugged. "I never actually thought this would happen. I figured we'd never see each other again. It never even occurred to me the bloke Luna's been gushing about for six months was you." Dudley's face flushes. "I mean, not because it didn't sound anything like you. Granted… it didn't, as far as I could remember," Harry admitted. "But I just… well, I don't exactly like thinking about Little Whinging that often."

"I… suppose I understand that," Dudley conceded. "I think about it all the time. What I'd say, what I'd do. But it wasn't miserable for me, at least not at the time. I kept those years in mind all this time to remind me to be a better person, but you were always pretty decent." Dudley came back to the wall, and they stood in silence for a while longer while Harry smoked.

"… Harry, I-" Dudley attempted to break the silence, but Harry cut him off.

"I forgive you, Dudley."

"… how'd you know I was gonna apologise?"

"I can read minds."

"Really?"

"No, you're just really, really obvious." Despite himself, Dudley grinned.

"There's the wit I remember." Harry chuckled.

"Look, Dudley, it was a long time ago. We were stupid kids, and I already knew by the end that you were turning it around. I figured that handshake before we parted ways said everything that needed to be said between us. And frankly, if you weren't a good man Luna wouldn't have had anything to do with you in the first place. I've long since learned to trust her judgment… well, about people anyway. Magical creatures I take with a grain of salt."

"So you wizardly types don't believe in her strange creatures either, huh," Dudley snorted.

"You spot a Nargle for yourself and tell me about it, and maybe I'll start to believe."

It was another half an hour before they came back inside.

Several hours later, as Dudley was driving with Luna back to her flat, he looked over at her.

"Hey Luna."

"Yes, Dudley?"

Why did you spring Harry on me like this. How could you not tell me you were a witch. I have a deep and abiding phobia of magic dating back to the age of eleven, reinforced by basically every experience I've ever had with wizards, and while I'm willing to work on it to make this work I need you to know it's gonna be really, really hard for a while.

"Thanks." The rest could wait until morning.

 **The feeling of updating a fic after such a long time that you've moved twice since the last one is unlike any other.**


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